insert title of epicness here
by Witticism-fails-me
Summary: Alex remembers some stuff while he's on a rooftop. Not a character death. Minor language use. Pathetic attempt at humor...I apologize beforehand.


_What would Jack do if she saw me like this?_ Alex swung his legs back and forth over the edge of the roof. Leaning back with his hands to support him he silently contemplated the cloudy sky above him. A bitter smile twisted his teenage countenance. _She'd order me to get down this very instant, hands on her hips and staring me down like no one else can._

A bubble of laughter rose up in the back of his throat like bile and he turned away from the heavens. _Too bad she can't save me now. _It had been his fault of course, one mission she insisted he wouldn't go on with more vehemence than ever before.

So they sent her home. The one person who was always at his back, calming him after his nightmares and telling him it would all work out, sent home without a chance to say goodbye during one of his missions. When Alex returned home to a dark and silent house Blunt just stared stonily on and Ms. Jones offered him a peppermint.

He could still remember that day with aching clarity when he closed his eyes at night to dream troubled dreams and wake breathing heavily and crying.

"_Jack! I'm back!" Alex waited for her reply as he stood in the doorway to his home, right arm in a cast and left eye blackened._

_The dark hall echoed his call with its despairing gloom. "Jack?" his voice shook with uncertainty, in his head he prayed to anyone up there that she would pop her redhead out from behind a door with a grin and shout 'Surprise!'. But she never did, and his desperate plea went unanswered. Turning in a panic he faced Blunt and Ms. Jones, standing silently behind him._

"_Where is she?" he asked wildly, Blunt just looked at him with his expressionless eyes. "Where is she?" he was practically frothing at the mouth as he shouted. Ms. Jones pulled out a plastic wrapped peppermint, offering it to him as if it would solve all the problems in the world. Alex slapped it out of her hand, he hated them. Fury rose up and he slammed the door in their faces, waves of despair and grief and anger swept through him in a destructive tidal wave. _

_Alex collapsed on the carpeted floor, hot tears flowed down his cheeks and sobs wracked his bruised frame. Curling into a protective ball, he rocked back and forth as he cried that one last time. Crying for the parents who never had the chance to raise him, crying for the Uncle that refused him an easy childhood, crying for the housekeeper who stood up for him like the mother he never had. _

_He didn't know how long he cried, but when the tears stopped flowing he stayed in his ball. Closing his eyes in sudden exhaustion, Alex wished he had never investigated Ian's death, wished he had found a way to stay out of the clutches of MI6, wished Jack hadn't been there to tell him it would be all better. _

_He stayed like that for the rest of the night and when the doorbell rang in the morning, Alex stood with an air of resignation, blank faced he wiped the streaks off his cheeks and opened the door with full expectations of who would be on the other side._

Alex closed his eyes then opened them, banishing the memory from his mind for now. _Although…it's almost a blessing, what they did to her. _They couldn't blackmail him anymore, unless threatening his best friend counted, but there really wasn't much they could do to Tom unless they wanted to become like the people they dedicated their lives to stopping.

The teen-spy smiled bitterly at the thought, they had already crossed _that_ particular line. Who thought of hiring a teenager as a spy in the first place? _My life would make a wonderful memoir. Or a piece of fiction. _Alex thought and laughed out loud, that cold, near hysterical laughter that replaced his once carefree and joyful chuckling.

Closing his eyes once more he tilted his head upward, facing the heavens once more. A light drizzle came from out of nowhere, Alex remembered something Jack had told him once, when they were splashing in puddles on the way to school when he was little.

"_People say that when it rains, God is crying for the human race." She had said, grinning down at him, her red hair plastered to her head despite the umbrella over their heads._ _"But I don't think that's it, God created us, he shouldn't have to be sad about what we do and how we treat each other." Young Alex had looked up at her, youthful curiosity on his open face._

"_But, then why __**does**__ it rain?" he had asked. Jack laughed and shrugged._

"_Who knows," she looked up through the see through plastic of the umbrella, a wry smile on her lips. "I like to think that it's the angels raining kisses on our sinning souls. Blessing us with the strength to keep moving and survive in this dog-eat-dog world." Young Alex hadn't been given much time for reflection on the words Jack said that day, she had looked down at her watch after that and yelped. "Ah! We'll be late! Run Alex! Run!" and they had run. Crashing through puddles, laughing like maniacs and getting soaked to the bone._

Alex smiled at the memory, angel's kisses. He could imagine that, each faint droplet of rain that touched his skin the soft lips of an angel somewhere sending him the strength to keep going. Looking back, he realized how lucky he was to have someone like Jack.

Someone who was always there for him, whether it was for comfort, an argument on whether they should refer to football as football or 'soccer' as she did back in the states, or just companionable silence. They could sit for hours at the dining table, Jack tackling a ripped shirt hem and Alex dutifully completing his homework, all the while silent but for the red-headed Yankee's incoherent cursing.

Oh the nostalgia.

Alex opened his eyes, feeling them sting with each droplet that hit its mark, and sat up fully, facing a skyscraper across the street. Glancing down at his watch, a plain brown and black waterproof digital one, he stood and brushed off the back of his jeans.

Looking down at where he had been sitting, Alex saw a dry spot in the shape of his butt and smiled, oh the little things that made him laugh. He waited around to watch the drizzle erase the dry spot, making it just like everywhere else, then walked over to an awning by the door that led away from the rooftop.

A duffel bag lay in the shadows and Alex knelt beside it. Unzipping it calmly he pulled out a smaller pack and harness. Alex pulled on the harness and pack, making sure everything was secure and comfortable before returning to the edge of the rooftop.

Looking down he noted again to himself the distance to the ground, seventy or so stories. Pulling a cell phone from his back pocket, Alex speed dialed 1 and held the phone to his ear.

It rang barely once before someone picked up. "Alex! Where have you been? You never showed up for the four O'clock meeting! Come back here at once!" Ms. Jones admonished him immediately upon picking up. Alex ignored the question.

"Have you ever felt like just jumping?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" Ms. Jones' voice was baffled. "What do you mean, Alex?"

The teen-spy continued in a voice as nonchalant as possible. "I mean, have you ever thought that jumping would solve all the problems in the world? Just leap off the tallest building you can get to and fly free as bird through the air?" he took a step forward, the toe of his sneaker peeked over the edge.

"Alex? Are you thinking of committing suicide?" Ms. Jones' voice was full of fake concern. She didn't care, no one at that hell hole ever cared, except maybe Smithers. "Alex, where are you?"

"Nowhere in particular." He said, peering out over the edge. "Have you ever looked down from seventy stories high? Everyone looks so tiny, like little ants hurrying about in a rush to rebuild their ruined ant hill." He could practically feel her alarm over the connection, he smiled.

"Alex, stay where you are! Don't jump." Ms. Jones ordered. "People are coming over right now, don't fight them. They're going to get you down and help you." Alex smiled again, a sardonic smirk that twisted his boyish good looks into a face he didn't think he'd recognize if he where to look in a mirror.

"I don't know, Mr. Jones." He said. "See, when a person wants to commit suicide. Advice over the phone doesn't tend to help." He terminated the connection and took another step forward.

Both feet perched precariously over the edge of the roof and Alex felt adrenaline pump through his veins. The drizzle had stopped without his noticing, and the sun was back in its blazing glory. He spared a glance back, the spot where he had been sitting was dry again, like the rest of the roof.

_Angel's kisses don't always last. _He thought, bending his legs like a swimmer about to dive into weightless oblivion. _But then again, we shouldn't always depend on those up on high to solve our problems for us._

And he dove, the wind whipping his hair about his head like a golden halo and arms stretched forward in a rather crappy imitation of Superman. As he flew downward at an angle, Alex reached for the cord on the parachute, gripping it and pulling.

_Angel kisses my arse, more like God pissing on us all._

* * *

Disclaimer: don't own anything, bu~ut, I do have a personally autographed copy of Snakehead in my posession! Does that count? It says my name and has his siggy, it should. But it doesn't...sob, I'm going to go...bite my pillow.

Sorry if I get anything wrong, like...distance from which it is safe to open a parahute, or use one for that matter. I find that I'm much too lazy to care about researching that myself, which is probably why I haven't published anything of my own...

Anywho, thanks for reading! I tried for more humor in this one, it seems to be such a hard subject for me to write. Did I succeed? Tell me in a review!

Hell, you can tell me whatever in a review, get an A on a test?(I did!) New puppy? Baby? Abducted by aliens? Kidnapped by hippogriffs? I'd love to hear about it! ^^

~Witty


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